The Ben & Jerry’s Human Development Index

When I travel I love to visit grocery stores.  I think this is an excellent way of determining the cost of living, the local tastes and it’s an interesting opportunity for people watching and seeing how people interact with one another and the level of customer service.

In Africa, the grocery stores were a bit unusual.  If you found something you liked you bought it immediately because you never knew if you would see it again.  I saw lots of unusual products, like eland, kudu and warthog.  And it was always fun to try and explain a product you desired and have the salesperson give up and offer you a condom.

In Italy I remember seeing baby food made from horsemeat.  In India, we drank Thumbs Up! soda.  And in China I tried durian, which kind of looks like a spiky watermelon and smells like feet.  But in the end, after trying whatever exotic and strange food (zebra testicles anyone?) is available I navigate myself towards the ice cream selection.

Each year the United Nations publishes the Human Development Index.  Using three statistical indices: life expectancy at birth, mean years of schooling, and per capita income, the UN rates each country in terms of “development.”  Some countries, such as North Korea and Somalia are not rated due to the lack of information.  All other countries are rated from low to medium to high to very high development.  Most western countries (Australia, the US, Germany, etc.) are considered very high, while most of Africa is low.  Botswana, South Africa and Namibia are medium.

While the UN Human Development Index is all well and good, I prefer my method of measuring human development: Ben & Jerry’s ice cream.  Obviously, in countries where Ben & Jerry’s is absent, there is low (or maybe medium) development.  Countries which sell Ben & Jerry’s are naturally high or very highly developed.

However, I take my analysis one step further.  I like to examine the price point of Ben & Jerry’s to determine the cost of living.  In the U.S. the price of a pint of Ben & Jerry’s is roughly $4.  Four years ago, when I took my students to Switzerland, a pint was €11.90, which is about US$13.

Here in Australia, we are looking at AUD$12.50, which is equivalent to US$9.15:

In conclusion, according to the Ben & Jerry’s Human Development Index, the U.S., Australia and Switzerland are all very highly developed since they all sell Ben & Jerry’s.  However, it is evident that the cost of living is higher in Australia, and still higher in Switzerland, than the U.S. as demonstrated by Ben & Jerry’s being more than twice as expensive in Australia and more than three times as expensive in Switzerland than in the U.S.

My academic superhero is Hans Rosling, a Swedish academic who conducts research on human development statistics.  I am going to tell him about my Ben & Jerry’s Human Development Index and see what he thinks.  Maybe my 1,000 citations are right around the corner!

Little America

Last week I was in San Diego for a conference.  When the conference ended I went to San Francisco for a few days to visit my friend Brian.  I had never been to San Fran before, so while my first priority was visiting Brian and his family whom I hadn’t seen in over a year, a close second was checking out the city.  One of our excursions took us to Chinatown, which is the largest Chinatown outside of Asia, and the oldest in North America.  The funny thing about all that stuff being sold in Chinatown… is that it is all made in India!  I took great pleasure in picking up all the little trinkets, turning them over, anticipating a “Made in China” tag, only to be shocked upon reading, “Made in India” instead.  What IS the world coming to?

Somewhere between the fortune cookie factories, the foot reflexology massage advertisements and the Indian made chopsticks, I was reminded of a conversation I had with some friends about a similar phenomenon... Little America.

Believe it or not, Africa is not typically known for being culinarily sophisticated or diverse, but there is evidence to the contrary.  There are at least three established Chinatowns on the continent, in Madagascar, Mauritius and South Africa; Mombasa, Kenya hosts a huge annual Oktoberfest; and Johannesburg has a Little Italy.   One afternoon I was sitting in the lounge at Joburg Airport with some recently acquired single serving friends discussing these types of ethnically-centered communities.  A Brit made the comment (in the way only a Brit could say it), “I don’t understand, why aren’t there any Little Americas?”  To which I responded (as only an American could), “Of course there are!  In fact there are several thousand of them.”  After a belated pause for effect and the expected exchange of confused glances I continued, “And you have all been there, likely many times.  It is called McDonald’s!”

The mention of McDonald’s sent the conversation off on a completely different tangent, one in which only a tourism professor could dominate, and so I did.  My companions began debating the merits of McDonald’s, the menus selected according to geographical region and questioned why some countries have a never-ending supply of McDonald’s, while other areas, particularly the large majority of Africa were McDonald’s-free zones.  Even the Brit admitted, “The last four months in Zimbabwe have been the longest of my life.  I would have killed for a Big Mac.”  There are only five African countries with McDonald’s restaurants: Morocco, Egypt, South Africa, Mauritius and Reunion Island.  The other 49 countries are sans-Mickey-D’s.  In case you are curious as to why McDonald’s has not infiltrated the continent there is a simple answer: The Golden Arches Theory of Conflict Prevention.

In 1999 Thomas Friedman wrote the book The Lexus and the Olive Tree in which he stated, “No two countries that both had McDonald’s had fought a war against each other since each got its McDonald’s.”  In the Golden Arches Theory of Conflict Prevention chapter, Friedman goes on to explain that McDonald’s will only enter a country that has reached a certain level of economic development, one which supports a middle class that can patronize a McDonald’s establishment.  Once a country has that kind of financial security it becomes a “McDonald’s country,” one which is stable enough not to want to pursue potentially destructive actions, such as wars.

In all fairness, The Golden Arches Theory is not absolute.  In fact, shortly after the book was published NATO bombed Yugoslavia.  The 2006 war between Israel and Lebanon and the current crisis with Russia and Ukraine are other examples which make the theory flawed.  But at the same time, there are countries which could be categorized as possible “McDonald’s countries” which haven’t made the cut.  Namibia and Botswana haven’t been in wars with anyone since independence, 24 years and 48 years, respectively.

Trust me, I am NOT advocating the spread of McDonald’s, particularly into Africa.  I would much rather see these countries develop their own businesses outside of the big brand giants.  But I have to admit, there is nothing more challenging than teaching in Botswana and saying to your class of 100+ students, “Ok, you know how McDonald’s does XYZ?”  You look into the crowd of faces and realize everyone is staring back at you completely clueless as to what you are talking about.  “No, no most definitely do not know how McDonald’s does XYZ, or anything for that matter.  Never mind, give me a second, I can find another example for you.”  At some point in your academic career you think you are pretty well versed in your field.  And then you get a little reality check like this one and remember that learning should never stop.

Here is a map of countries with and without McDonald’s, along with some other interesting facts.  It should be noted there is a mistake on this map: the large red spot in northwest (top left side) Africa is Algeria which does NOT have a McDonald’s.  Instead that should be blue and there should be a red area NEXT to it (on the left) where Morocco lies.  Minor detail, unless of course you are Moroccan or Algerian:

Money, Money, Money, Money...MOOOOOO-NEY!

Though I’m not scheduled to leave Africa for a few more weeks, I thought it a good idea to start going through all my belongings and trying to downsize as much as possible.  Believe it or not, I spent a good 20 minutes trying to streamline my wallet this morning.  As a rule, when I travel, I eliminate all unnecessary items from my wallet.  When friends come to visit and I see them carrying a wallet full of 10 different credit cards, their library card, their Red Cross blood donor card, their Social Security card, and countless other cards they will never use, but are highly likely to lose here, I cringe.  When I moved to Africa I brought the following: 1 personal credit card, 1 credit card for university-related/business purposes, 1 bank debit card, my travel insurance card, and my emergency evacuation/I’M IN A LOT OF TROUBLE GET ME THE HELL OUT OF HERE! supplementary insurance card.  That’s it!  I have since added a Botswana driver’s license.

Despite having the two credit cards and the debit card, I only use these about half the time.  Southern Africa has begun using plastic on a more regular basis, but Zimbabwe and most of central and east Africa still operate on a strictly cash system.  I knew cash would be necessary, so when I came here I brought $5,000 with me and have since changed or used most of it.  Similar to the patriotism displayed in my blog post about how I was proud to be an American and would NEVER give up my passport to obtain citizenship elsewhere, there is a lot to be said about the power of the U.S. dollar.  You know the commercial, “Visa: Accepted Everywhere”?  Not true.  It should really be, “U.S. Dollars: Accepted Everywhere.”  Though I should add that when travelling to Africa if you plan to bring a credit card, choose Visa.  My university card is a Master Card and I haven’t been able to use it several times because Master Card isn’t as widely accepted as Visa.  Apparently those Olympics commercials with Morgan Freeman ARE telling the truth.

As I was organizing my wallet today there was no need to go through my cards as those have remained stagnant.  But my supply of banknotes and coins has changed considerably.  My stash of U.S. dollars is barely enough to get me through the next couple months, but I can now rest assured that if I get stranded in any one of a dozen African countries I can buy a bottle of water, and in some cases, even dinner if necessary.  Here are some of the bills I’ve collected during my tenure in Africa:

(Left to right, top to bottom): Ugandan Shilling, Rwandan Franc, Congolese Franc, Ethiopian Birr, Zimbabwean Dollar (This is no longer in circulation. Zimbabwe has no official currency, so the U.S. dollar is primarily used, but you can now use 8 different foreign currencies as legal tender), Zambian Kwacha, U.S. Dollar, Kenyan Shilling, Namibian Dollar, Botswana Pula, Sierra Leonean Leone, South African Rand, and Lesotho Loti.

None of these bills are worth more than a dollar or two, except for the Rand and Pula which are about $20 and $23, respectively.  But I will definitely spend those as SA and Botswana are where I will be most of the time until I leave. 

Concessions

No, not the concessions you have at a baseball game.  Though a hot dog sounds really good right about now.  Concessions as in, “What is your list of demands that will convince you to accept another Fulbright and remain in Africa for another year?”

In case you missed yesterday’s post, I received another Fulbright award which is a huge honor.  However, if you have been following my blog for any amount of time you know that living in Africa is a bit more challenging than home, or any western country for that matter.  But Fulbright, and the U.S. Embassy here, really want me to stay, so much so that I was told, “Tell us what we can do to make this deal happen.”

Today I gave that proposal a little bit of thought.  I’ve spoken to a few friends and gotten lots of email messages from people trying to convince me why I should return to the U.S., why I should stay another year, or what concessions I should ask for.  Here is the ultimate list, compiled in conjunction with one of the (many) co-Presidents of my Fan Club:

Dear Ambassador:

Thank you for your support for my Fulbright award.  As requested, I have compiled a list of concessions I would require to remain in Botswana for the next 14 months.  Please find the list below: 

1. Embassy-sanctioned housing.  I am aware from my friends who work in your office that all embassy homes have their own power generators, water tanks and fuel which are maintained by U.S. government resources.  In an effort to provide a more comfortable standard of living and professional existence, the avoidance of power cuts, water rationing and Internet inconsistency would be ideal. 
2. Diplomatic mail privileges. During that past year I have had a particular challenge attempting to receive any mail from loved ones.  There was the time my package was impounded because I needed to obtain a beef permit from the Ministry of Agriculture for a box which contained a package of beef jerky.  Another time it took nearly two months for a postcard to arrive from Namibia.  I could have walked to Namibia and back in a shorter amount of time.  I still haven’t received my Christmas cards and I know my Dad sent me one that sings- he always does. 
3. PX shopping pass.  I would like to shop at the PX with all the other embassy workers.  There is no such thing as toilet paper shortages or lack of fresh fruit at the PX.  And you don’t have to buy dead people’s clothes either. You guys get your stuff shipped in from the U.S. every week!  I also know there is a Subway franchise.  I got that information from a very reliable source.  Given the lack of restaurants or real fast food in Botswana, this would be a big plus for staying here another year. 
4. A seat at the table.  I think the U.S. needs a Secretary of Tourism.  I’m your girl! I went to the UNWTO Conference.  No one represented the U.S.  I already made lots of connections and have buddies in all the tourism ministries all over Africa.  I could work on your visa facilitation programs, development initiatives and spearhead homeland security and safety training in the tourism sector. 
5. Naming rights.  I realize Phelantown may be too large a request.  But how about a lake or a river?  Queen Victoria is long gone; she won’t know if we rename her lake.  Actually, on second thought, you really don’t need to make me happy.  My mom’s the important one.  Let’s say we just name a shopping mall after her.  Now, that’s definitely doable

Looking forward to your response,

Kelly

Base to Kelly. What’s your 20?

Over the last several days I’ve received a number of emails, Facebook notifications and Skype messages asking, “WHERE ARE YOU?”  Apparently everyone that I normally communicate with is concerned that I am lost.  Rest assured; I know exactly where I am.  I just can’t tell you.  No, it’s not a secret.  “What we’ve got here is a failure to communicate” a la Cool Hand Luke.

For the past week things have been unusually dicey around here.  More so than usual.  I know I’ve mentioned power outages and rolling blackouts in several previous posts.  But for the past 9 or 10 days the load-sharing as it is called here has really involved no sharing at all.  Instead it’s more of a no-load situation.  Yesterday I had no power in my house from the time I woke up around 6am until about 9:30pm.  The power came back on for about 5 minutes and then it was back off again.  I’m not sure when it came back in the middle of the night, but when I woke up this morning there was power.

When I woke up this morning to power I was thrilled.  Until I realized the Internet wasn’t working.  I couldn’t do any work at home, so I came to the office early only to find…. The Internet wasn’t working at UB either.  After four hours in the office I was finally able to connect to the Internet.  I checked my email and found the following message in my Inbox:

Colleagues,

Please note that throughout the day you may experience slow responses or limited access when working on the Internet.

We have been informed by Botswana Telecommunications Corporation (BTC) that they are experiencing problems due to a cut in the fibre at Karakubis where there is the line connecting Botswana to the world through Namibia, resulting in slow access.

We apologise for any inconvenience and will continue liaising with BTC to monitor the situation.

Thank you

Seretse Bagopi (Mr)

Deputy Director, Information Technology

University of Botswana

I’m so glad they EMAILED us to tell us the Internet wasn’t working.

So to recap, we get our power from South Africa and that’s not working out so well right now.  And I just learned today that we get our Internet from Namibia.  I’m not entirely sure why we get our Internet from Namibia.  A few months back a friend from Namibia sent me a postcard.  It took 51 days from the time he mailed the postcard for me to receive it.  Better late than never?  But if that’s how long a postcard takes, I can’t say I have a lot of hope for our Namibian Internet connection.

TIA.

By the way, I have been trying to upload this blog post for over two hours now.  The Internet keeps timing out and I keep losing all my work.  Thank goodness I wasn’t trying to post something with a photo!

Back to Square One

Remember last week when I was so excited to have received some gifts from the U.S. and my luggage that was lost back in November in Ethiopia?  Well, now everything is gone.

On Saturday morning I went to the Johannesburg airport for my flight back to Gaborone.  I was so excited to go home.  I had finally received my luggage that had been missing for over a month, and on top of that I had seen a friend from the U.S. who had brought me a few goodies I had been unable to purchase here.  All I needed to do was fly 40 minutes back to Botswana and then I could enjoy some peace and quiet, and my STUFF!

But an easy 40 minute trip is never easy in Africa. The first problem came when I arrived at the airport.  I’ve seen this phenomenon in China and I hate it: You arrive at the airport and someone approaches you and asks where you are going.  This is typically a well-dressed person who appears to be someone official, as if they work in the airport.  Well, they don’t.  They “help” you and then either demand a very large tip, or they just flat out rob you.  The problem is, the airlines know about it, security knows about it, and nothing is done to save unsuspecting tourists from a dire fate.

I’ve seen these people before and since I already known the scam they intend to pull I avoid it.  Normally threatening to scream helps, “Get away from me! I know you are here illegally! If you don’t leave me alone I will scream! Go find someone else to rob!” If you are nice they will rob you anyway, so you have to be overly aggressive and downright mean to get them to back off. This time I misjudged the situation.  The scam artist cornered me as I was getting off the escalator with my trolley full of luggage.  I gave my well-rehearsed and frequently used line and he said, “Ok.”  Then he proceeded to wrestle the trolley away from me and push it back down the escalator.  Despite my backpack (which contained my laptop) falling a good 50 feet or more, the only thing that happened was that the battery popped out, which I was able to jimmy back into place.  Crisis averted. However, it still made me mad.  Here’s why it really made me mad:  I went back down the escalator, retrieved my things, but my bags back on the trolley and returned upstairs.  When I got there two security guards were talking to Chris (the scam artist).  Point being, THEY KNEW HIS NAME! This guy was a regular!  Couldn’t they arrest him for something? Anything? Destruction of property? Trespassing?  In India you cannot enter the airport without a ticket.  I would love for them to implement that rule here.

Despite the security guards hanging out with an obvious criminal, likely talking about last night’s cricket match, I continued to the check-in counter, got my ticket, handed over my bags, proceeded to security.  As I was standing in line at the passport counter I turned my ticket over and realized my claim ticket had the surname Mwai listed, along with Walvis Bay (which is in Namibia) as the destination.  Once through passport control I looked closer and realized I had two different baggage claim tickets, one had my name and destination, the other was for Mwai.  I went to the South African Express information desk, explained the situation with the wrong bag tags and was told to go to my gate.  Went to my gate, explained the situation and was told to return to the SA Express transit desk (on the opposite side of passport control).  At the transit desk was told to return to the main check-in counter.  At the main check-in counter I talked to another person (the man who checked me in was gone when I got there).  She made four phone calls and was told they could not issue a new bag tag, so they would just move the bag to the correct pile of luggage for Gaborone.  Yes, I agree, this sounded very official (insert eye roll here).  Turned around to head back to security so I could go back through passport control again, and who did I see?  That’s right, Chris!

Fast forward to boarding the plane.  The plane was packed.  The planes between a lot of the shorter African destinations are smaller prop planes, but they can still hold a fair amount of people.  My plane was sold out; every seat was full.  This meant there had to be at least 60 people on the flight.  After we boarded we sat on the tarmac for almost an hour before we took off, which was unusual, but not exactly the end of the world.  Of course, it was 100 degrees out, and therefore uncomfortable, but sweating is my natural state of being here, so no big deal.

When we arrived in Gaborone I did what I always do and sprinted across the tarmac towards passport control in order to be first in line.  Then I went to the baggage carousel to retrieve my luggage.  Normally I get my luggage and depart before everyone gets through passport control, but this time the wait was so long everyone was milling around.  The baggage never arrived.  Finally a lone baggage handler appeared and said, “It’s ok, come over here.”  Since there is only one baggage area I literately thought maybe he was taking us back to the plane to offload the luggage ourselves.  I would have been ok with that.  But it was not to be.  Instead he took us to the check in counter and then disappeared.  Then another person arrived and said no luggage was loaded onto the plane at all.  He needed everyone to fill out paperwork regarding lost luggage.

ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!  THERE WERE 60 PEOPLE ON THAT PLANE.  NO ONE? NO ONE THOUGHT SOMEONE, ANYONE, MAYBE ONE PERSON WOULD WANT TO TAKE A BAG WITH THEM?

Long story short, they never loaded any bags on the plane at all.  Not quite sure where the common sense was in that decision.  I would like to think one person who worked at the Joburg airport would have questioned the fact there were no bags to load.

In the last 48 hours six South African Express planes have arrived in Gaborone from Johannesburg.  They can tell me with great certainty that the bag tagged for Mwai never made it to Walvis Bay.  But they also can’t tell me where it is.  Maybe Chris has a deal worked out with the Johannesburg baggage handlers as well as the security guards.

Not Snowboarding, but Sandboarding in Namibia

I’ve seen lots of news reports recently from the U.S. about all the harsh winter weather everyone has been enduring.  Each time I say “goodbye” to someone on Skype they always offer to send me some snow.  My retort is, “Great! And I’ll send you some sand.”

Right now summer is going strong in the southern hemisphere and it feels like we will never see the end of it.  But I’m not complaining because I am willing to take the heat over being cold any day.  A few Christmases ago I was back in Baltimore and I tagged along with my brother and his friends on a snowboarding trip.  Though I thoroughly enjoyed it, my enthusiasm only lasted about half a day.  Once I was cold AND wet I called it quits and then retreated to the lounge to sit by the fire and read.  I think Tommy and his buddies had to be chased off the mountain around 10 o’clock at night.

This Christmas I put my skills to good use when I went sandboarding in the Namib Desert.  Sandboarding and snowboarding involve similar abilities, but there are a number of differences.  Sandboarding is hot, you know, since it is in the desert.  Also, when you fall the sand gives, unlike ice.  So, while I had a bruised rear end for a week after snowboarding I did not have that problem this time around.  Sandboarding requires a lot more effort than snowboarding when you are going up the hill/mountain/dune.  There is no gondola to take you up; you have to haul your board back up the dune all by yourself.  In reality you expend a lot more time trying to get back up the dune that down it.  And because you are spending so much time walking up the dune you get in a lot fewer runs.  In three hours of sandboarding I think I only had about five or six runs.  Nevertheless it was great.  I loved it.  Unfortunately I don’t have any pictures because I didn’t want to risk ruining my camera by getting sand in it.

The day after sandboarding some friends and I climbed Big Daddy which is the highest dune in Namibia.  Here is the view on the way up:

And then me sitting on top of the dune:

Climbing the dunes at Sossusvlei is one of the major tourist activities in Namibia.  Here is the Cliff Notes version: it is really hot, you get lots of sand in your shoes, you empty your shoes, put them back on, take two more steps and then there will be more sand in your shoes.  Rinse. Repeat (for about four hours).  Though I will not miss constantly emptying my shoes of sand I really enjoyed the dune climbing and sandboarding. 

Do You Believe in Ghosts?

I’ve never really been one to believe in ghosts.  I enjoy the haunted house at Disney.  And I scream in scary movies.  But I don’t really think I believe in ghosts.

When I was in Namibia I visited one area which had a bit of a reputation for being haunted: the Skeleton Coast.  The Skeleton Coast is the term used to define the Atlantic coastline of Namibia running from the northern border with Angola to about midway down the country at Swakopmund. The region gets its name from the rocky, shallow waters which have caused countless ships to run aground there.  Thus, it is a kind of ship graveyard if you will.  The early Portuguese traders called the area As Areias do Inferno which means, “The Sands of Hell.”

Naturally, most of the hundreds of shipwrecks along the Skeleton Coast are from colonial times, but that doesn’t mean today’s sailors are immune to the harsh conditions there.  You would think with modern technology that shipwrecks would be a thing of the past.  Quite to the contrary.  In 2009, the Russian ship Ze’la ran aground and was unable to be salvaged:

Perhaps the most famous shipwreck along the Skeleton Coast is the Eduard Bohlen.  The Eduard Bohlen was a 310 foot ship which weighed 2,272 tons.  It was shipwrecked in 1909 when it ran aground at Conception Bay in thick fog.   Due to its size it is particularly impressive because it is nearly half a mile away from shore.  I took a flight over Skeleton Coast during my trip and here is the Eduard Bohlen from the air:

Aside from the shipwrecks, the Skeleton Coast is also well known for the 200,000 cape fur seals which live there.  Birthing season for the cape fur seals is in early December, so we visited when the little ones were only a couple of weeks old.  You could see, hear and smell nothing but seals for several miles:

Check out these teeth:

And some of the babies.  They already have teeth:

An Uncertain Spring

One of my primary reasons for visiting Namibia was to see Twyfelfontein, which in Afrikaans means uncertain or doubtful spring.  Twyfelfontein is an area in north-western Namibia which was inhabited by Khoi herders and hunter-gathers for over 6,000 years.  The area was used as a place of worship and as part of those rituals more than 2,000 rock engravings and paintings were created there.  It is one of the most extensive areas of rock art in Africa which is why I was interested in seeing it.

The tour took an hour and it was right in the middle of the day, so it was over 100 degrees outside and you could really feel it.  A few in the group actually decided to turn back early because the heat was too much for them.  I guess after spending five months here I’ve built up a tolerance because I didn’t have a problem at all which is fortunate.  We had to hike over a number of rocks to get to the engravings which was actually a lot of fun:

Due to the sun being so high, many of my pictures didn’t turn out really well.  But a few of the best ones are below.  From left to right you have a zebra, rhino (very small), and giraffe.  The footprints are the author’s signature:

On this rock you can see seals, penguins and a flamingo.  This is particularly impressive because the coast is about 80 miles away; meaning whoever engraved these figures must have travelled a significant distance, by foot, through the desert, and past lots of animals including predators like lions:

This rock has a number of different animals, but the one everyone looks at is the large figure at the bottom, with the tail extending directly to the left and then 90 degrees up.  That is the lion-man figure.  It is called the lion-man because it is shaped like a lion, but the feet have five toes.  Lions only have four toes, so the artist either took creative liberty and gave it an extra digit, he never saw a lion up close, or simply had a flawed memory:

Overall it was totally worth it.  I think I was the only person in my group who was really excited about seeing this, but that’s ok.  The only thing I found surprising was that there were very few depictions of human beings, only about 50 out of the whole lot.  But here is one picture of a human at Twyfelfontein; it’s not a rock carving, but it’s better than nothing:

The Himba People of Namibia

A couple days ago when I was discussing the Herero and Nama people I mentioned that Namibia has a number of different tribes.  The Himba people are another significant tribe in Namibia and I was fortunate enough to visit one of their villages during my trip.

Technically, the Himba are closely related to the Herero, but if you compare the clothing the two wear, they look very different.  Case in point: the Herero lady wears a giant dress with lots of petticoats which was introduced by the German missionaries.  The hat she wears is supposed to represent cow’s horns because cattle are so valuable in their society:

By contrast, the Himba seem to wear very few clothes.  As you can see here, both men and women go topless and wear a loincloth made out of animal skins.  However, the women must cover their ankles because that is the body part which should not be exposed to others. Since they wear very little clothing, they cover themselves head to toe with a mixture of butter fat and ochre to keep their skin soft and protect it from the sun.  As a result they tend to have a permanent reddish tint to their skin. All the Himba women braid their hair and cover it with the ochre as well:

Here is a shot of the Himba village itself.  Each woman lives in her own hut with her children.  Men have their own huts as well, but seldom need them as they generally decide which lady they would like to spend the night with.  Polygamy is the norm, but in many cases, Himba don’t even get married, they just have children with various partners.

And then here are some of the Himba children playing.  These both boys and girls who have the same hairstyle until they become older and get married:

I’m not sure how well you can see it, but I was really impressed by this kid who had fashioned a vehicle of some sort out of wires and soda cans and was pushing it around the village.  Apparently, they aren’t completely isolated out in the village:

My Visit to Etosha National Park (continued)

Yesterday I mentioned that I visited Etosha National Park in northern Namibia during my camping trip and was fortunate enough to see lions, leopards and cheetahs.  Since I took several great pictures while I was in Etosha I wanted to follow up on my visit a little more.

Anyone who has done a safari has almost certainly seen a giraffe.  I have TONS of shots of giraffes.  BUT, I have never gotten a picture of a giraffe drinking.  And as you can see here, it is a bit of a process as the giraffe must bend its back legs while straddling on his front legs.  This is actually a very dangerous position for the giraffe to be in as he has no peripheral vision, so this stance leaves him vulnerable to predators:

We also saw two impala fighting:

And then there was an elephant taking a bath in some rainwater which was sitting in the middle of the road:

One of the best spots of the day was a black rhino.  We only saw two rhinoceros in the park because they are THAT rare.  There are only about 4,000 rhinos in Africa, but that is a figure from 2008.  Most countries won’t publish their actual rhino numbers because that encourages poachers.  Most people think that elephant poaching in Africa is the problem, but in reality, rhino poaching is much worse.  Poachers hunt the rhino because of their horns.  The typical rhino horn goes for about $50,000 for 1 kilo, with most horns averaging about 8 kilos in total.  Some countries have begun de-horning their rhinos in order to make them less attractive to poachers.  But the horns grow back at a rate of about 8 centimeters a year, and the de-horning process is quite expensive.  Namibia has no plans to de-horn its rhinos for now, but that may change in the future.  Here was the rhino I spotted:

 

The Ferrari of the Kalahari

Here in Namibia, as in most countries in Africa, there are a variety of tribal peoples who make up the demographic profile of its citizens.  Namibia is a little unique though compared to its neighbors.  Namibia was one of the few German colonies in Africa, called German South-West Africa.  While everyone knows about the struggles associated with apartheid in South Africa, few know about the checkered past of Namibia.  Similar to other colonized countries in Africa, when the Germans entered Namibia they seized a lot of the land from the local subsistence farmers and gave it to white colonists who arrived from Europe.  The locals didn’t appreciate this and in 1903 the Nama tribes, followed later by the Herero people, rebelled.  The Germans defeated the Nama and Herero and attempted to get rid of them by driving them into the desert.  Some of them made it successfully across the border to Botswana, but most of them died of thirst in an attempt to flee.

For those Nama and Herero who did not attempt to emigrate, the Germans captured them, imprisoning them in concentration camps and forcing them to work as slave labor, primarily constructing railways.  There were several concentration camps in German South-West Africa, but the most famous was Shark Island, off the coast of Luderitz.  Shark Island was actually referred to as a death camp by the facility commander with the main objective being to eliminate the prisoners there.  Ultimately, the Germans were quite successful in their goal; between 1904 and 1907 when the camps were operational mortality rates reached 74%, killing nearly 100,000 Herero and 10,000 Nama.  Unfortunately the closure of the camps in Namibia did not put an end to the concept of concentration camps.  Several camp commanders from German South-West Africa went on to have illustrious careers managing concentration camps for the Nazis thirty years later.  I read an excellent book called The Kaiser’s Holocaust by Olusoga & Erichsen if anyone is interested in learning more about the Herero and Nama genocide.

When the camps were finally closed in 1907 only 15,000 Herero survived, down from 80,000 in 1903.  But the Herero population has recovered over the last 100 years and now nearly 250,000 are alive in Southern Africa.   During my time in Namibia I’ve seen quite a few Herero.  At one point during my trip as we were driving along a long stretch of road through the desert we saw a Herero couple driving what is referred to here as a “Ferrari of the Kalahari.”  It is definitely not my idea of a smooth ride, but I guess it works if you don’t have to get to your destination in a rush.  As you can see it even has shock absorbers:

Lions and Leopards and Cheetahs, oh my!

Since we don’t have tigers or bears here in Africa, I had to alter the title slightly.  But I since lions, leopards and cheetahs are some of the most difficult animals to spot in Africa I consider myself very fortunate that I got to see all three in one day during my camping trip.

As I mentioned previously, I took last week off from blogging out of necessity.  I was camping in Namibia and didn’t have daily access to Internet during my trip, hence my temporary silence.  However, now that I am back online and took a record 2148 pictures during my 10-day camping trip, I will spend the next few days catching you up on my adventure.

I booked the camping trip with Wild Dog Safaris and they did ensure a wild ride.  Our tour guide and driver, George, along with our camp assistant, Manfred, took 7 of us (2 Germans, 1 Brit, 1 French girl, an American couple that is currently living in Bangladesh, and me) on a 3,000 kilometer trip around the northern half of the country.

I haven’t been camping in a few years but was pleasantly surprised by how much I enjoyed it this time around.  We departed from Windhoek on Friday, December 20^th and headed north to Etosha National Park.  Etosha is the largest national park in Namibia; it is three times the size of Holland.  It was given its name because the Etosha Pan is located almost entirely within the park.  The pan makes the park unique compared to many of the other national parks I’ve visited in Africa.  Most of the national parks I’ve seen have the brush and mopane and baobab trees, but because of the salt pans Etosha looked quite different.  Believe it or not the pelicans and flamingos are particularly attracted to the salt pans, but we saw plenty of other animals wondering around as well.  Here you can see one of the salt pans which seems to extend forever:

While on our way north we saw plenty of the typical animals which I’ve already mentioned before: baboons, monkeys, impala, kudu, eland, oryx, giraffe, elephants.  But there were a couple of animals I was VERY excited to see.  I’ve seen lions before, but we saw three females hunting a wildebeest.  I’ve never seen lions hunt before in real life and it was awesome.  In the end the wildebeest got away, but we spent about 20 minutes watching with baited breath:

Later that same evening we found two male lions roaring, calling the females over:

We also saw a leopard that had just made a kill.  It was interesting that he took the meat, jumped up into a tree nearby and then began to eat it.  Given the fact he is licking his lips here, I’m guessing it tasted pretty good:

The good thing about seeing a leopard and cheetahs in the same day is that I now can visually tell them apart.  Prior to seeing both of them almost back to back I couldn’t distinguish the difference.  But as you can see here, cheetahs have solid black spots (as opposed to the leopard’s multicolored spots) and black stripes down the front of their faces.  I’m sure there are many other differences that I don’t know yet, but at least now I will be able to tell what I am looking at, a leopard or a cheetah:

I have plenty of other fun pictures from Etosha, but I will save them for another day.